


The Night We Met

by idk5678



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idk5678/pseuds/idk5678
Summary: “Clarke...I’ve fought the urge to reach out, the urge to hear your voice. I know this version of me isn’t what you signed up for... isn’t what you were looking for in that bar a year and a half ago...But you gave me what I thought was all of you... And then you got scared, and pulled away, reducing our interactions to only some of you, only the easy parts of you... and maybe you saw that look in my eye, or felt the race of my heart when you fell asleep on my chest... causing you once again to retreat, leaving me with none of you.”“I know... I’m not him... I know I’ll never be him... but I’m still a person with needs and wants and a beating fucking heart... A heart that wants you... I just wish that were enough.More than anything else, I wish I could go back to the night we met...”“If you are done leaving your voicemail, either hang up or press 1 for more options.”What happens when Clarke is hung up on Finn and Lexa falls in love with Clarke? Will it break her heart or will this unrequited love not be so unrequited after all?
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Finn Collins/Clarke Griffin mentioned
Comments: 7
Kudos: 90





	The Night We Met

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this originally as part of a series, but decided to post a longer version as its own one shot. This is inspired by the song ‘The Night We Met’ by Lord Huron featuring Phoebe Bridgers. I recommend listening to it before reading or while reading.
> 
> What happens when Clarke is hung up on Finn and Lexa falls in love with Clarke? Will it break her heart or will this unrequited love not be so unrequited after all?

The Night We Met - Lord Huron Featuring Phoebe Bridgers

October, 2018

It burned. All of it. The sleepy yellow glow from the street lights outside. The watered down whisky casting amber reflections on the hardwood floor. The corners of her eyes, and the sharp edges of her chest, and all the pieces of her old life that just didn’t seem to fit anymore, no matter how many times she rearranged them. 

She didn’t know how much more of herself she could give to the pain without becoming another shadow on the wall, another empty glass in the sink. She felt haunted by a memory, by a ghost with a body to claim. She just wished the ghost wanted her in the same ways its body did; at three AM, when the bars were closed and rational thought diluted by tequila moments and lime juice lips. Her skin replacing salt rims and saccharin sweet chasers. Ease the burn, distract the pain, create illusions of happiness like shadow puppets gracelessly tumbling across the wall. 

That was Lexa’s only job. Too bad her heart is an overachiever.

So here she sat, feeling more parts ache than skin and bone. The alcohol no longer taking the edge off, when she’s drank in the potency of blonde waves and blue irises and expertly gentle finger tips. Lexa had heard of being love drunk, so this must be the love hang over; throbbing memories in between waves of dull pain. 

She reached for her phone, only one name on her lips, only one name claiming the pads of her fingers against glass.

“Clarke...I’ve fought the urge to reach out, the urge to hear your voice. I know this version of me isn’t what you signed up for... isn’t what you were looking for in that bar a year and a half ago...

But you gave me what I thought was all of you... And then you got scared, and pulled away, reducing our interactions to only some of you, only the easy parts of you... and maybe you saw that look in my eye, or felt the race of my heart when you fell asleep on my chest... causing you once again to retreat, leaving me with none of you.

And as I sit here, the absence of you bringing me no more comfort than the silence itself, I realize I’m in love... I’m in love and you’re too scared to look me in the eyes and face it.

And without the closure of goodbye, all I’m left with is misplaced longing for you and the overwhelming regret of ever meeting you at all... the wish to go back to the night we met and avoid the chilling splash of your drink and the sadness in your gaze and your split second decision to make me a temporary answer for your selfish pain. 

I know... I’m not him... I know I’ll never be him... but I’m still a person with needs and wants and a beating fucking heart... A heart that wants you... I just wish that were enough.

More than anything else, I wish I could go back to the night we met...”

“If you are done leaving your voicemail, either hang up or press 1 for more options.”

:  
:  
:  
April, 2017

Lexa was distracted. The bar was crowded, and the idle thrumming of easy conversation overwhelmed her senses. Anya was convinced this is what she needed, a night out with friends after a stressful work week and less than stellar run in with her ex. But all she could really focus on was the condensation of her beer, and the way everyone else seemed so at ease, so present.

And as distracted as she was, she didn’t seem to be nearly as out of it as the blonde now crushing drinks against her torso, creating a tie dye splatter that warranted profuse apologies and fist fulls of cocktail napkins. All Lexa could do was laugh as the blonde clumsily blotted at her abdomen and ran through her repertoire of curse words under her breath. 

“You know... I usually make a girl buy me a drink first before getting this handsy. But I guess I’m wearing it.” Ocean blue eyes shot up, wide in horror. She immediately abandoned the damp wads of paper on the bar and shook her head in embarrassment. 

“I’m so sorry... fuck- I’m useless...” The distressed blonde immediately turned to exit the bar, clearly shaken, and clearly not just by the awkward interaction with an unlucky stranger. Something made Lexa’s legs move faster than the thoughts in her head. Don’t let her go... Don’t let her go...

“Hey! Wait!” Lexa chased her down half a city block before the blonde even registered her presence. When she turned all Lexa could comprehend was teary eyes and ragged breath. “Don’t cry over spilled drinks...” the brunette tried, but the joke landed with a thud in between two separate realities. “Are you alright?”

When they were finally making solid eye contact, all Lexa could think was how she never wanted to see another blue unless it had green flecks and unkempt desire. Like an unspoken agreement, their lips crashed together, all chaos and what could only be described as uncommon sense. Reckless and wanting, but still so soft, so unabashedly sweet.

When they finally broke apart, damp button downs were long since forgotten, and fingers had found their home between ribs, eyes searching for answers neither party had. “Hi, I’m Lexa.”

“Hey... I’m Clarke.”

:  
:  
:

June, 2017

Lexa kept a careful eye on her from across the room, taking a measured sip every time the blonde touched his arm or let out a flirtatious giggle. It made sense really, standing alone in an almost stranger’s kitchen next to a half devoured cheese plate and multiple empty wine bottles. It made sense that Clarke asked her to come along to a friend’s birthday party, promising her she wouldn’t let her wallflower tendencies bloom into full fledged social anxiety. It made sense that those plans were abandoned as soon as she caught sight of a lanky brunette with a thick head of hair and a boy next door smile.

It made sense. It didn’t make it hurt any less.

Between her calculated distraction of the slow burn of alcohol and the slower burn of her chest, she hadn’t noticed a body taking residence a little too close to her own. She flicked her eyes over to find a slender brunette with sharp features dulled by inebriation, scanning her with sluggish eyes. Lexa blamed the snails pace on the copious amounts of alcohol the girl had likely consumed, but there still appeared to be a goal here, something the unwanted company was trying to accomplish.

“Hey, I’m Echo.” The introduction was staggered but full of confidence and vibrato. Lexa might even consider letting her distraction fixate on the beautiful but poorly timed girl, if it weren’t for the girl’s drunken state.

“I’m Lexa.” She kept it short and concise, each syllable slicing through any hope this girl had at a one night stand. There seemed to be a moment of realization in her eyes, like a flash of sobering light.

“Oh! Lexa! Clarke’s Lexa!” Lexa wasn’t sure how to take that, and especially how to respond to it. Sure, she was Clarke’s friend, Clarke’s more often than not benefit at the end of the night, Clarke’s distraction from heartbreak. But in all the ways she belonged to Clarke, all the pieces of herself she had submitted to her in shadowed rooms and sleepless nights, her beating heart and relationship status remained unclaimed. “She said you were hot, but damn, she left out quite a few details.”

This snapped Lexa back from her own insecure daydream, causing her to sputter and then down the watery remains of her whisky. She had never been good at receiving compliments, especially not when they took the form of a come-on. The coughing fit and Echo’s close proximity to the brunette caught Clarke’s attention immediately. She was now jogging away from Finn, leaving him to bob his head awkwardly to a song he clearly didn’t know the name of. Lexa knew. It was Clarke’s favorite.

“Hey Lex, you okay?” The blonde’s words were soft and unreasonably sweet. Her fingers now tracing relaxing patterns on the brunette’s back and watching her carefully as she finished her stammering fit. Clarke slipped the glass from her hand and pivoted for the sink, but not before throwing Echo a glare that made even Lexa tense. Echo seemed almost unfazed, following the blonde further in the kitchen with an unapologetic grin. 

“You were with Finn. It seemed like she could use some company.” Echo made no attempt at quieting her tone, her words annunciated, her eyes still tracing Lexa. Clarke’s patience whittled away with each passing moment that the unwelcome guest held her gaze, unrelenting, unfettered by the daggers in Clarke’s eyes.

“No Echo, she’s off limits.” Clarke’s tone was stern and annoyed, but still just above a whisper. If Lexa weren’t standing so close and listening so intently, she might’ve missed it over the sound of the tap. 

“Clarke... I mean... come one. She’s her own person with her own set of eyes and her own brain. She can make her own decisions.” Something in the blonde snapped. She slammed the water off and turned to face Echo completely, jaw pulsing and eyes scathing. 

“She’s her own person, with her own set of eyes and her own brain. And she came with me, because she’s already made her decision. So back. off.” Before Lexa could fully process the implications of Clarke’s stern whisper, she felt a strong arm slip around her waist and guide her out to the front stoop. Clarke was gripping the whiskey glass full of water so tight, her knuckles were turning white. She passed the glass over to the brunette, the force of annoyance causing some of it to slosh on to her shirt and pants.

“Fuck, Lex, I’m sorry.” The blonde was now taking in an anchoring breath, clearly coming down from her momentary frustration. 

“Hey, it’s alright. Don’t cry over spilled drinks.” There was a flash of warmth now present in Clarke’s eyes as she let out a small giggle. The well played joke seemingly brought them both back to the night they met. “But on a serious note, are you okay?”

Clarke took a moment, clearly processing everything that just happened. And then without a second thought, her lips crashed into Lexa’s, slipping two hands on either side of the brunette’s sharp jaw, and tangling finger tips into loose baby hairs.

“I didn’t like how she was looking at you... I know I don’t have the right... I know I was being unreasonable-“ Before Clarke could finish her exhale of a thought, Lexa pulled her in again, kissing her hard as if all those insecurities were a question and her lips were the only appropriate answer. 

It didn’t make sense, the chaos of this evening that transpired to this moment. It didn’t really have to when Lexa could pretend there was some sort of permanence in the way Clarke was looking at her now.  
:  
:

July, 2017

“Well Lex, you have a knack for falling for the emotionally unavailable. I’ll give you that much.” Anya pulled Lexa from another Clarke infused daydream. Her fingers toying with the delicate stem of a half empty wine glass. Or perhaps half full if Lexa wasn’t such a pessimistic realist.

“I haven’t fallen for her, Ahn. We’re just friends with reciprocal benefits.” Lexa knew she was lying through her teeth, but she didn’t have the emotional bandwidth for the ‘Clarke conversation’. She barely had enough energy for a conversation period.

“Raven told me she’s still pretty hung up on that guy... What’s his name... Phil?” Lexa was growing more impatient and frustrated with each passing moment. Her eyes flashing up to meet her sister’s.

“Finn... His name is Finn...” It was still hard to say it, still hard to give brief reality to the idea of a person Lexa often pretended didn’t exist. If only Clarke could do the same. If only Clarke saw him as a static memory, rather than a dynamic actuality. Leaving the brunette no other choice than to stay quiet every time she watched the blonde slip out of her apartment at alarmingly odd hours. She was sure the neighbors were talking. She just wish there was more of a story to tell. 

“Just please... For the love of a god you don’t believe in... Please be careful.” Anya’s voice was quiet, almost desperate. And all Lexa had was her word and an ache in her heart that she feared would never go away.

:  
:  
:

September, 2018

“Sexy Lexyyyyy... I missed you!” Clarke wrapped her arms around Lexa’s shoulder like a sling, and pressed a sloppy, sangria sweet kiss to her cheek. It had been a week since they had seen each other, but Lexa knew to expect a call around midnight every Saturday. It had become a sad, slightly desperate ritual provoked by too many vodka drinks, and not enough hydration.

“I missed you too, Clarke.” Lexa whispered delicately into the blonde’s ear, her warm breath causing to the girl to shiver in her arms. “Let’s get you home.”

Clarke nodded, sliding her arm around the brunette’s waist and tucking her head in the crook of her neck. Lexa was acutely aware that this was all a temporary fix. That she was just a placeholder until Clarke inevitably forgave Finn. And maybe she shouldn’t be so available for an inebriated blonde who could never truly love her the way she needed to be loved. But god did it feel good to be her safety, to be her temporary fix. 

The evening breeze was cutting, almost sobering, and Lexa could feel Clarke stirring in her embrace, making it harder to guide the girl home. 

“Clarke, baby, you gotta help me here.” The pet named seemed to bristle the girl, stinging a piece of her heart that she never intended for Lexa to find. 

“I’m not your baby.” The words were sharp and pointed, breaking through buzzed fog. Those blue eyes were no longer hazy, no longer hers to claim. Clearly, they never were, not even once a week, at the bottom of a shot glass.

“I know. Sorry.” Lexa loosened her grip around the blonde, still reeling from the unintended consequences of her accidental endearment. She just wanted to get the girl to her bed safely so she could return home and ache in peace. She was totally aware of the irony in that thought.

“Lexa... I’m sorry... Please, forgive me.” Clarke could feel the sudden distance, the brunette’s body now replaced by early autumn chill and the absence of comforting touch. 

“There’s nothing to forgive. You’re right. You’re not mine to call baby.” Her eyes were beginning to sting, but she could see the chipping paint of Clarke’s apartment door, and would soon be relieved of her martyring duties. Just five more minutes, she kept telling herself.

All of a sudden, Clarke stopped stubbornly in her tracks, her arms crossing her chest like they had something to bear and her eyes illuminating a point she had yet to make.

“When we met... When we started all of this.. You agreed, no strings, no feelings. Friends with benefits.” Lexa was now stopping too, but found it hard to turn and see the honesty in the blonde’s gaze. 

“You’re right Clarke, I did agree to all of that. But do you think me taking you home every weekend to make sure you’re safe is something a fuck buddy does? Do you think me holding you until you fall asleep, and tucking you in before I make the trek back to my apartment is something that a fuck buddy does? No. But I do it for reasons you’ll never be ready to hear.” The anger was now burning her chest and tightening her throat, slipping in and out of words she was trying her best not to say.

“Am I not ready to hear it, or are you not ready to say it?” The question was just above a whisper, but it felt heavier than the exhale it had escaped on. And in that moment, staring into an abyss of blue, she knew she would never be enough. She was too soft, too gentle. All good intentions and wishful thinking. She was Clarke’s drunk desire, when the blonde was Lexa’s every waking thought. 

“Clarke... Can we please just get you to bed?” Lexa was trembling, vibrating with confessions she couldn’t find the strength to release. She felt less like a chaser, and more like melting ice in an abandoned whisky glass; losing form, losing purpose. 

“Why? So you can leave with a clear conscious?” Clarke was now shaking her head, hands up as if she were surrendering to an idea still stuck in her throat. 

“What do you want from me, Clarke?! I’m doing what’s right... I’m doing what’s for the best...” Tears left silver, moonlight tracks on her cheeks. She wiped at them haphazardly with the back of her hand, jaw pulsing, eyes searching for answers in stars hidden by city smog. “When you look in my eyes, you’re searching for pieces of him. I can see it... I can feel it when you reach for something in me that was never there, that only he can give you... You’re searching for answers in the wrong person.”

“Lex...” And there was that gaze. That sad, desperate, heart broken gaze that Lexa hadn’t seen at this magnitude since the night they met. She wanted to take it all away, drown the ache in kisses and roaming finger tips. But she knew if she didn’t leave now, she would chase Clarke down a drain, down a dead end road, down a rabbit hole of sleepless nights and eternal what ifs.

So Lexa broke eye contact and turned her back like a key in a lock, feeling so much pressure at first and then total release. Her legs moved slowly, but with purpose. Confident that Clarke wouldn’t chase her, wouldn’t find anything worth chasing. No words were uttered, no regret filled pleas. Just the distant sound of cop car sirens and insomniac chatter. 

If Clarke wanted her, she would’ve fought for her. But instead she took the form of a ghost, caught in memories, materializing in chilling breezes and rattling leaves.

After a fitful evening of coercing her conscious to settle down and go to sleep, she awoke from what felt like a disappointing power nap. She found 5 missed calls on her phone and endless texts all centered around “I’m sorry” and “I fucked up” and “Lexa, please forgive me.”

The messages went unanswered like the questions rattling in her chest in an attempt to further break her heart.

:  
:  
:

October, 2018

“Lexa, please... Just open the door...” A familiarly sweet voice woke the brunette from her dozing position on her couch. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to alleviate the irritating sting of her sudden consciousness. “Lexa, I know you’re home. I just... I need to see you.”

She shook her head, desperately trying to convince herself that the small, sad voice from the other side of the door was a memory, a mirage, a cruel trick her mind had conjured up after one too many whiskey sours. She walked to the entry, pressed her long fingers to the splintering oak, and rested her forehead right next to the peephole. Too scared to look through and either find everything or nothing at all.

“Clarke...” Her voice cracked, tears pricking through thick eyelashes and devastating realities that the brunette wasn’t ready to face.

“Lex, I’m here. Please just let me in.” The voice sounded more assured, like its purpose had been renewed. It had a name, and a body, and a soul that Lexa wanted to so desperately give in to. 

“I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry. You should... you should go home.” It pained Lexa to send her away, to keep a door and a broken heart between them. But she felt useless and damaged, and nothing about that combination sounded ready to face her favorite blue eyes.

“I have things I need to tell you. Things I’d prefer not to confess to a dead bolt lock and an empty hallway...” Lexa could hear how full that statement was, she just wasn’t entirely sure what it was full of. Ache, desire, fear. It seemed to matter less and less with each passing moment. She pressed a trembling hand to the cool door knob, holding it there for just a moment and then slowly turning it. The door opened just a crack to reveal a messy mop of blonde waves and red rimmed eyes. While all signs pointed to devastation and lack of sleep, her stoic expression held a resounding courage that broke through it all. And then the image of Lexa seemed to shatter her resolve. “Baby...”

It was soft and undeniably warm. It felt hot in the brunette’s chest and fiery in her eyes. The word that set them ablaze, now slipping from the blonde’s pink lips as if it had the power to extinguish it all, salvage something from the charred ruins. Fight fire with fire.

“I’m not your baby...” When those words tumbled from Lexa’s mouth, they weren’t cutting and bitter, they were anguished and disheartened. She could see baby blue eyes squeezing shut, a shaky breath escaping through gritted teeth. Once composed, Lexa felt soft fingers rap around her own, now gripping at the edge of the door and peeling it farther open so they could take a step inside. It felt like a tense slow dance, too many edges with nowhere to put them, nowhere to fit them.

“Lexa, I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am... How selfish I’ve been...” Clarke stared at the floor, waiting for inspiration only incautious bravery could provide.

“You don’t have to do this, Clarke. You were right, I broke the agreement... I lost sight of what this was. I was the selfish one for wanting more than you could give.” Clarke’s eyes flew up to meet hers, a now deeper, darker blue than Lexa was used to. She was now shaking her head out of frustration and perhaps misunderstanding.

“A year and a half ago, I was in no place to get know you, none the less get to love you. But you were patient and kind, you moved slow and never pushed me. You held me when I cried, and kissed me when I didn’t deserve it... When I never deserved you...

And as time went on, you helped me heal, you helped me grow, you showed me that I deserved more. And I craved that kind of warm, positive energy in my life. I craved you in ways I knew I shouldn’t, in ways that did not uphold our agreement. So I pulled away... I put up my walls, too scared to know that there was a world where I could have it all... with you...

And in my weak moments, I always found myself calling you, reaching for a home that wasn’t my bed, wasn’t my apartment, had brown curls and green eyes and always knew what to say. And then...” Clarke’s voice cracked and her eyes failed to find the words she was searching for.

“And then I called you baby...” Lexa finished the sentence as if it were her own, as if she hadn’t played it over and over again every night since that night. Every night since she ruined them with too much heart and not enough touch, too many words but not enough detachment. Too much and too little all at the same time. 

“And then you called me baby, and I saw that look in your eyes, and I got scared. He used to give me that look too... And knowing that the eventual absence of that look could lead to heart ache, could tear down all the progress I’ve made...It scared me...”

Lexa nodded in understanding, but couldn’t shake the frustration taking up residence in her chest and in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t Finn. She wasn’t the worst parts of him, she wasn’t Clarke’s favorite parts of him. She was different. She knew the cost of her own love, the impossibly eternal ways her heart pounded for everything Clarke is.

“I’m not him, Clarke. I think that’s kind of our whole problem. I can’t fix a broken heart by giving you my own, and you can’t see passed your feelings for him enough to even give mine a chance.” She knew the honesty was probably jarring, probably unexpected from the brunette who so often remained meek and passive if it meant protecting Clarke.

“No, Lexa, oh my god, no.” The blonde nearly choked on her words, eyes filling with tears that had the power to break Lexa’s heart even more. “You can’t possibly... how could you think...” the unfinished statements remained in the air like confused puzzle pieces, all sharp edges searching for their curved mates. They would remain unfinished, and Lexa was beginning to lose all the patience she had left. Clarke must’ve noticed this by the flickering of her gaze and the irritated biting of her lip, so the blonde took a big inhale and started again.

“I’ve hated every moment since that fight... Missing you in every way possible that a soul could miss someone. And when I got your voicemail, when I felt you slipping away... regretting ever knowing me at all... I panicked. I had to see you, know where you stood... know that you know where I stand...” A tear escaped down Clarke’s cheek and clung to her chiseled jaw bone. Lexa wanted to reach out, wipe away any evidence of their mutual heartbreak. But she was too scared, too full of questions.

“Where do you stand, Clarke?” The question was just above a whisper, only a careful ear able to catch it before it disappeared into the cool evening air.

‘I love you... I’m in love with you...” Clarke sounded firm in her statement, but her eyes were aglow with insecurity.

“Are you just saying that because you’re scared of losing me? Because Clarke, I can’t be your back up plan. I can’t be your heart’s compromise...” Lexa met her gaze, eyes filled with tears, words heavy with doubt. Before she could even register what was happening, she felt Clarke’s arms reaching for her, pulling her against her chest and burying her face in brunette waves. 

“Baby... you are it for me. You should never be anyone’s second choice, and I’m so sorry I ever made you feel that you were mine... “ She could feel Clarke convulsing in her arms, her shoulder now damp with the consequences of regret. “I’m so in love with you that I’m not sure what to do with it all.”

Lexa pulled away slightly so she could see into Adriatic blues, gently wiping at rosy cheeks and mascara storm clouds. This was the first time they had touched in a way that felt intimate in was seemed like forever. 

“Clarke, I’m so in love with you... and I want more than anything to believe everything you’re saying, but I can’t give my heart to you fully while he still has yours. I’m not sure if I’d ever recover.” Clarke was now shaking her head silently, the right words seeming to escape her when she needed them most.  
“Lex, contrary to all the stupid mistakes I’ve made with you, ever since we met, I haven’t been able to think about anyone else. He made sense and I did love him at one point, so I kept trying and trying. But with you... Loving you... it required no effort and it scared the shit out of me. So I ran like an idiot, poured my efforts into a heartbreak that no longer felt like a heartbreak, in an attempt to avoid the impossibly devastating pain the idea of losing you could cause.” Clarke peered down at her feet and took in a rattling breath. “It’s no where near a good reason or explanation for how I’ve acted, and I’m so sorry for that. But all I want is you... to be with you...”

Lexa let the words sink in, avoiding eye contact out of fear that that beautiful shade of blue may sway her already questionable track record with common sense. And then she realized, there was nothing that made sense about love, especially not when it felt so tangible, and permanent, and undeniable. So she did the only thing that felt right in the moment. She kissed the blonde softly, carefully, as if to say ‘we’re going to be okay.’ 

“Even if I could go back to the night we met, I wouldn’t change a thing. I’d rather love you with all the consequences then never know you at all.” It was the truth, every word of it. And Clarke knew it too with the way the sadness in her eyes shifted to cautious hope.

“No regrets?”

“No regrets.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I would love hear what you think and any feedback you may have! It definitely keeps me writing and updating works.


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